


Fragments

by Charllllotte



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, Sylvixweek2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-14 11:18:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21014906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charllllotte/pseuds/Charllllotte
Summary: A series of drabbles written for Sylvix Week 2019Day 1: Childhood. Set before attack of Garreg Mach.Day 2: Dream. Set post game, a dream reading for the young chief of Sreng.Day 3: Modern AU. Sylvain cooks.Day 4+5: Rain + Tears. Felix Hugo Fraldarius' practical guide to Faith magic.Day 7: Family. It's too short to write a summary about ^^Day 6+8: Firsts x King's Blade AU. Taking the fight to Shambhala.





	1. Afterglow

Gilbert expressed his gratitude. Seteth frowned. Their professor gave Sylvain a long look before nodded silently.

And Felix, Mercurius in hand, murmured under his breath as they left the war room and the knights’ earshot.

“Liar.”

Sylvain laughed. 

They’d known each other for too long by now, both inside and outside this lovely nest box called Garreg Mach Monastery. Long enough for him to tell the concerns hiding beneath that accusation; and for Felix to know it wasn’t the House of Gautier’s decision to make a stand in the day coming.

Just as the din in the court yard, the twilight was almost gone. Only a faint afterglow still lighted the bridge, bringing forth pale shadows as they walked by, a part of which twitched as the poison dripping jaw of a demon beast. 

It was probably not the safest bet to take. 

But Sylvain took it. A stupid choice, perhaps, but of his own making. He had also listened and watched for too long by now. The moaning and begging behind the wall in the dead of night; the white knuckles clenching a sword’s halt; the stack of letters put away with a heavy sigh; the soft prayers spoken, the pages turned, the sneers endured - the questions asked in pain but never got answered.

He’d learned to put on a smiled and keep his silence. If sacrifice ever had a chance to become salvation, it must have come from the Goddess herself. Mortals bared their wounds to each other in vain, no one could save another with their own suffering. 

There was something, though, that even a mortal could do.

To take the arm. To take the chance. To know what he feared would always come to pass, and stand in its wake.

Hero’s relic or Mercurius in hand.

**Childhood – or the end of it.**


	2. Crimson

He woke up, eyes sour and heavy. 

It was an hour far from midnight, and even further from the dawn. But the woman was already waiting as he walked into her tent, dark gaze lifted to meet his - a greeting that hadn’t changed since his father’s time. 

“You dreamed, Chief.” She said, voice as dry as the biting wind and all the rocks it chipped away, “What did you see, Mighty Lion of the Desert?” 

“I saw crimson,” as those words were spoken, he tasted something warm on the tip of his tongue, as awfully familiar as the dream itself, “I saw red. “

The dream reader nodded quietly. Those colors meant for a foe to their clan, one cursed bloodline that took their homeland away. Had been for hundreds of years. She needed to say nothing. As young as he was, the chief already knew the ruin it would bring upon their people, or how sweet and smooth the mead of vengeance would be in a tankard made from bones. 

“But there was more,” the warrior lowered his voice, sounded almost confused, “- I saw the Lone Wolf shining too, above the crimson, above the red. Its color deep as the heart of ocean. Its glow sharp and bright. ”

Outside the tent, frost covered ground was hard and gleaming under a dark sky full of stars. At this time of year, the Lone Wolf, hunter of stars, wouldn’t be seen for another half of a year. And yet it shone above their foe in his dream – 

His thoughts came to a complete stop when the woman made a startled sound. 

“From a warrior blessed by the Lone Wolf, ” Wrinkles appeared around her eyes as she gazed into the space, but the dream reader was now smiling, “A change …! How strange, not what we would have expected …” 

Indeed. 

As it turned out, the Crimson was far from silent and the Wolf was not alone.

And the mead tasted just as sweet and smooth from a friend’s hand.

**A dream foretold**


	3. Floorplan

“…So...Sylvain, cooks?”

And judging by the rich, tempting aroma from a mixture of spices and ingredients even Ashe couldn’t quite put his finger on, it was CHINESE.

“Yeah. I don’t know how he learned from watching videos on…whichever website that’s fully Chinese. Said he liked the ‘flexibility’ in cooking instructions.” Ingrid shook her head but grinned, which, Ashe suspected, attested to how much animal protein they were going to see at tonight’s dinner table.

“And he’s good at it, I assure you.” That was Dimitri, giving an as-kind-but-brighter-than-usual smile. Now it made sense why Sylvain had all those…steel… chopsticks.

The youngest Blue Lion nodded somewhat nervously. Of the Fantastic Four, Dimitri was known for his preference of bold seasoning…almost as much as Felix. When he was invited to this little house-warming party, Ashe knew he probably also signed up for some sort of celebration for his own birthday. Now it looked like some adventures were in order too.

“Is that why he can’t live with a place built after 1930s?” Annette giggled, gesturing the smoke detector, as they all heard the unmistakable sound of food hitting a searing hot wok. 

Nobody wanted a firealarm gone off whenever they cooked. Surely that would be a legit reason to go through all the troubles as the redhead did, searching for a place WITHOUT an open kitchen… Or could it? 

And then Ash remembered that quick, neat, almost musical sound from knives and a cutting board he’d heard earlier. A sound that somehow managed not to stop even when Sylvain greeted him in that apron. 

Ashe facepalmed to stop himself there. 

Maybe sometimes people just needed a close door of their kitchen.

**Modern AU (featuring spicy Chinese Food)**


	4. Faith

The personal instruction on Faith magic had dragged well into a nightmare. 

By now, even the Ashen Demon’s face shifted from expressionless to something could be called tired. Whatever possessed their profession to think it was a good idea, if not satisfied, at least was exhausted too, so they decided to leave it at that.

Ears burning, fingers twitching for a sword - or better, a pair of gauntlets, Felix gave that little textbook one last hard glare as he shoveled it into desk drawer.

It was when he heard Sylvain: steps first, and then voice.

“Hey Felix, let’s go to di…whoa, you just wrapped up?” Naturally, the redhead saw it fit to invite himself to sit on Felix’ desk. Even more naturally, he leaned in to look into the other’s eyes, “…Bad first impression?”

“Hmph.” was all the responses Felix cared to give at the moment. 

He knew it would come in handy. And he understood the spells alright, thanks to those earlier Reason trainings he was talked into. But the WHITE MAGIC itself was just nowhere to be found in him.

“Hmmm…You know,” Sylvain held his gaze for a moment. For some reason, that also seemed to be all the responses the redhead needed to understand what was going on, “in a way, Faith Magic is quite similar to Reason. ”

None of his Reason training went down the drain like this, not even the first. Instead of sneering, Felix held one hand up. Blue-white sparkles hissed between his fingers. 

“I did say ‘similar’, didn’t I? Both need you to believe,” Sylvain laughed, “Though about different things! Reason is believing in oneself, yes? That it’s possible to understand the world and bend it to your will. All those calculations and spells are but fuel to your self-assurance. “ 

As much as he despised the naïve worship of so called “will”, Felix had put in enough efforts himself to understand just that. But he wasn’t going to nod to it, nor did Sylvain need to see him to.

“…On the other hand, Faith is … to believe in something else, even if you don’t fully understand it. So easing up a bit more helps. ”

Oh didn’t he believe. 

From the corner of his eye, Felix saw Sylvain’s expression softened into a dimer smile. He must be thinking of the same thing – or same one.

But that whining child was long gone. And Felix didn’t wish to have him back.

“It’s pointless.” He stood up to leave, not really surprised by the redhead’s arm thrown over his shoulder, or the offer came after that. 

“Hey don’t worry, I’ll teach you!”

So they spent many, many fruitless hours working on this damned project. After a while, Sylvain was even congratulated by the Boar for growing out of his “unhealthy lifestyle”. And Felix started to feel the other’s magic tingling over his shoulder blade from time to time, for even the tiniest bruise was enlisted for case study. 

He would have called for a stop sooner: there was just so much to learn without the magic itself. But Sylvain was … optimistic.

“But you have so much potential! ” The redhead once claimed with a mischievous grin. And when Felix shot him daggers, that grin actually grew into a giggle, “Mercedes once said the trick was not to cry, so you’re at least 49% there.”

“…Really. “Felix deadpanned, “Nonsense like that, from Mercedes?”

“Ah but it actually makes sense - ever wonder why ice was the only form of water available in magic?” Fingertip danced in the air, leaving glowing traces of light there. Sigils of elements neatly folded into pentacles and Sylvain’s eyes took a golden shine from its reflection. “Running water neutralizes magical energies, and then everything’s harder to control.” 

Felix knew he wasn’t really joking back then. But now – now he desperately hoped what Sylvain said was wrong.

The unforgiving rain was washing everything away. 

Vision. Sound. Blood. Warmth. His palms pressed against Sylvain’s wound had turned so numb that he no longer could feel the other’s pulse under it.

Another landslide could be upon them any time. He needed to patch Sylvain up enough to drag both of them out of here – and soon.

Felix steeled himself and tried again. All that the running water could be damned. 

And whatsoever about believing too.

He simply knew it. If there was so much as a breath left in this man, Sylvain would answer Felix. 

“...Come back to me...dumbass!”

The faintest light flickered into Life.


	5. Tale

She's too tiny and too polite to click her tongue. So despite the look she gave Sylvain shared a striking similarity with a younger Felix, the little girl just spoke out loud with a frown:"But you remember everything about father."

That hit too closed to home. Sylvain sighed softly and tugged her closer, "I try to, my lady." 

"...But still, not a suitable tale for bedtime story cus his...languages?"

"Sylvain~~~~"  
"Gautier...!"

The said redhead joined the perfect duo with laughter.


	6. Beast

Green, eerie lights were pulsing unsteadily; giving this place – though entirely cut out of metal – a strange look of entrails.

Those men in crow masks were still going on and on, bragging, threatening and exhorting. Felix took this chance to slowly flex his fingers, one by one, keeping blood flowing. His eyes felt strained in the dim light. A few muscles in the back must have been pulled pretty badly too, hanging only by shackles and chains around wrists, toes barely touching the ground.

Other than that, though, he was more than functional. Just as they had predicted, these people were arrogant with their magic. And they had plans for his … well, pelt.

“…you filthy beast, you are going to tell us everything you know. Everything. “ One of the men frantically waved a sharp hook in his face, laughing smugly, “And maybe we’ll be so kind to kill you before excerebration!”

The trick was to put on right level of weakness, let them think they were on top of you - the redhead tried to teach him a few dozens of time over, hands tightening on his forearm as if holding onto dear life. It was for that sake alone he kept his silence till now – not all that easy - these guys’ lines were more lacking than villains in Ashe’s knight tales. 

But now - it was about time. 

Felix sensed it immediately. A familiar gaze sent tingling at the back of his neck, bond formed long before he ran a sword through that man’s heart. 

A raptor’s smile touched his thin lips. At that sight his interrogators started to waver.

“Damn it what is that LOOK?! Are you imaging things, beast?”

For ones so obsessed with that metaphor, these people were shockingly ignorant of beasts’ claws and fangs.

“Ask my blade.”

Faster than he uttered those words, a longsword pierced through air, the cymophane on its halt leaving a golden trail of afterimage. It cut through the chains right in the middle, before landed an inch deep into the wall behind Felix. The swordsman, got to his feet with a cat’s grace, took that blade in one seamless motion. It wasn’t his, but familiar enough to feel reassuring against Felix’ palm. 

And HIS Blade was already answering, in the language of fire and ruins. Mages throwing their foul spells at the redhead desperately and hopelessly. Not slowed down by one beat, his lance sang, and sent those hidden beneath the dark deeper into the under. 

Felix wasted no time to join that whirlwind. 

Sylvain was running to Felix, even before last enemy’s body could hit the ground,

“ … Thank Goddess you are OK…” Lance pointing down, the redhead’s voice trembled even as he tried to smile, “Thought I’d become the first Blade sending my Ward into a deathtrap.”

We planned this together, Felix wanted to say, you knew what I was capable of. But something flickering in Sylvain’s eyes made that all but caught in his throat. 

Words were that dumbass’ preference anyway.

Clicking his tongue, Felix grabbed a handful of red hair - locks wet and warm from sweat and blood on his hand - and pushed that redhead against his chest, hard enough to feel his own heart pounding.  
It was an awkward arrangement, given their heights. But he let it last for a few unmeasurable moments, till Sylvain drew a deep breath and pulled away. 

Not too far from here, a rumbling sound like thunder sent the floor shaking. Probably Lythesia or Annette. The fight wasn’t over yet.

He looked up to find the other’s eyes, as well as his own voice. “...too much to ask?”

“Hey, you can ask me for anything. “ The flickering was still there, but so was the smile now, “Let’s go ring the curtain down, shall we?”


End file.
